


With You Alone

by girlunafraid23



Series: Our Theme Song [11]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Angst, Emotional, Fluff, Future Fic, Gen, M/M, a bit OOC
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-29
Updated: 2013-04-29
Packaged: 2017-12-09 21:53:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/778386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlunafraid23/pseuds/girlunafraid23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'The silence between them was never uncomfortable anymore, although it was still rare because Ian still liked to babble at Mickey who still pretended like he wasn't listening when he was soaking in every word. Mickey was hardly surprised when Ian was the first to speak, but he was caught off guard by the question, "When did you realize you were gay?"'</p>
<p>Mickey and Ian ask questions that turn into emotions and promises and repressed secrets. Mickey gets more emotional than he likes, Ian gets intensely aroused and also very emotional. Serious talks and a lot of love. (Happy ending, because we need happy Gallavich) (P.S. Sorry I'm not writing as much lately)</p>
            </blockquote>





	With You Alone

**Author's Note:**

> Here to Stay by Paradise Fears

Mickey was alone in bed after working long hours all week. Ian's shift ended about five minutes ago but he figured he knew his way to their bedroom. The window was open and the cool spring air was drifting in while Mickey laid on his back, smoking a cigarette. 

He heard the front door open and shut when Ian came home and could trace his every movement without having to watch him. Ian kicked his shoes off, like every day before taking off his jacket and throwing it on the coat rack. Every day he would go into the kitchen and grab a drink, humming under his breath whatever shitty song was last playing at the bar. And then he would find Mickey, if he knew he'd be home. So it didn't take long for footsteps to sound their way towards the bedroom.

Ian flung himself on to the bed next to Mickey, bouncing a few times against the mattress to get comfortable and then pulling the cigarette away from Mickey so he could take a drag. "Jesus Firecrotch, got any manners," Mickey grumbled at him, not putting up a fight otherwise though. 

When he opened his eyes to look over at the redhead, who blew smoke in his face, laughing, "Look who's talking about manners, now."

"Ah, go fuck yourself," Mickey said, smirking at him and grabbing the cigarette back from him. He took a long drag and then snubbed out the smoke before laying back down. He felt content doing nothing with Ian, since they had barely even seen each other all week. Their work schedules clashed so that they spent the little time they saw each other having quick fucks like back in Chicago. 

The silence between them was never uncomfortable anymore, although it was still rare because Ian still liked to babble at Mickey who still pretended like he wasn't listening when he was soaking in every word. Mickey was hardly surprised when Ian was the first to speak, but he was caught off guard by the question, "When did you realize you were gay?"

Mickey cocked an eyebrow up at him, turning his head to look over at him. Ian was blushing, slightly but still smiled at him with genuine curiosity that made Mickey shrugged. "I don't know," he sighed deeply, looking over at Ian who looked at him, his eyes waiting for him to really answer. "Mandy made me watch some stupid ass chick flick movie and she kept making fucking comments about the guy and I agreed with everything she was saying and like, I don't know. I tried to fuck girls and not think about guys and not be gay because fuck, look at my dad and where that got us."

Ian flinched slightly at the mention of Terry Milkovich but Mickey didn't spare a glance over at him. It hurt to look at him when his father was mentioned, he could only see Ian's blood spilling down on to his chest and his eyes glistening with tears. "What about you, Firecrotch? When did you know you loved cocked?"

"Nice way to phrase it, Mick," Ian snorted. They were pressed shoulder to shoulder now, leaning up against the headboards. "I knew in middle school when the guys started talking even more about girls and I didn't see what the big hype was. I mean, until I saw Jason Samson pull his shirt off at a street game of soccer and his entire body was abs and I popped a boner almost instantly. I got what the hype was about then, but I guess I missed the memo on what gender."

He couldn't help but feel jealous, even if Ian was talking about him being in middle school, "Jason fucking Samson? Didn't Fiona fuck him or something?" Mickey could hear the bitterness on his tongue, and he knew that Ian wasn't going to be scorned by the fact that his sister fucked the guy he probably jerked off to.

Ian laughed though, "Don't be a baby, Mickey. That was before I realized I like badly mannered, over-protective, jealous dipshits. Obviously, I made the right pick."

Mickey bit back his smile and covered it with a sneer, because even though Ian was technically insulting him, it made him happy that Ian was happy with picking Mickey. "Fine, whatever. Who was your first kiss?"

"Liddy Hopkins. I was fourteen and she decided that I was cute, her words not mine, and that she wanted to kiss me. And before I could even have a say in it, her lips were mauling mine and I almost threw up in her mouth. If you meant guy, Roger Spikey, who was almost my first fuck, yes. Which you already knew." Mickey did know about Roger and still wanted to claw his eyes out for taking Ian's virginity, although Mickey had a long line of people he wanted to kill for fucking Ian before he even talked to him. Fuck, he really was a jealous son-of-a-bitch. "What about you, cockslut? Who was your first kiss with?"

He rolled his eyes at the nickname, because he knew if he even offered up an argument, Ian would be able to name a million times that Mickey had begged for his cock. He coughed his answer out, embarrassed beyond belief, "Cathy Zimmer." 

Ian choked instantly at the name, "Buck-tooth Cathy Zimmer? As in, the girl whose teeth were bigger than her nose? What the fuck were you thinking? Were you trying to shield your love for cock that desperately?" 

At first, Ian truly sounded appalled but then each question turned more teasing and Mickey wanted to punch him for that. "Fuck you, it could have possibly been because I was ten, it was my first time being drunk and she was there and I was blindly horny and she actually has a really strong right hook."

"Fuck, oh my God, your first kiss punched you in the face after? Jesus, Mick. That's actually hilarious," Ian said, holding his sides while he laughed at the idea of buck-toothed Cathy Zimmer with more acne than seemed possible, punching Mickey Milkovich, feared neighborhood thug even at age ten.

Mickey wanted to hide his face in shame, his face heating up at the memory he had repressed for many years after shamefully reliving it for the next month after it happened. Ian knocked his shoulder against his when he was down laughing. He sounded slightly breathless, which shouldn't have made Mickey's pulse race, when he said, "Okay, first kiss with a guy?"

Ian glanced over at him, his red face slowly fading back to it's natural rosy color while Mickey watched him intensely. Mickey could feel his lip twitch, before avoiding his gaze completely. He could practically feel Ian's confusion radiating off his body, because who could be worse than Cathy Zimmer? Mickey let out a sigh before mumbling out, "You."

There was a long silence, uncomfortable for Mickey who could only sit still for the first ten seconds of it before he started fidgeting. He was about to get off the bed, before Ian had him pinned down on to the mattress, his eyes glazed over with an almost lethal look. Mickey swallowed, not allowing himself to look away.

"Are you being straight with me right now, about me being your first kiss?" Ian's voice sounded wrecked, like he had just gotten an hour long blow job and Mickey felt his breath hitch slightly, looking at his lust-filled eyes. 

If he was feeling confident, Mickey would have smirked at him, said something snarky in response. But right now, the look Ian was giving him was making his cock twitch with need and his heart race rapidly. "Yeah," was all Mickey could get out of his mouth, nodding once. 

Ian moved in quickly, his lips attacking Mickey's like he was suddenly going to disappear on him and this was his last chance. He kissed with passion and need and an urgency Mickey wasn't sure he's ever felt with Ian. They've seemed to feel every emotion possible together, but this was too desperate, too needy, too real. And Mickey kissed back just as harsh.

Their tongues were sliding across each others, teeth nipping at each other's lips and clanking together every time they slipped. When they both needed oxygen again, Mickey pulled back abruptly and stared at Ian with wide eyes, probably swimming with questions.

"I always hoped that I was your first kiss. I wanted to be your first everything and fuck, does that mean I'm the only one who has ever tasted your tongue and your lips and," Ian's questions were cut off by his own whining noise. He buried his noise in Mickey's neck, inhaling sharply while he seemed to try and control his arousal.

Mickey was nothing short of surprised. He didn't realize the idea of being the only one to taste Mickey that way was such a turn on for Ian, but if he thought about it, it would probably turn him on if he was Ian's first anything. "When was the first time you saw you me?" Mickey wasn't sure why the question popped out of his mouth or how he even managed to form words at that moment.

Ian's lips pressed a wet kiss to his collarbone before leaning up to look at him. His pupils were still blown wide but he didn't have that look anymore. "I was seven. I was walking with Lip to the library because he needed some book for a history project he was doing and Fiona told him to take me with him, Debbie and Carl were at some lady's house who babysat for us before she died like two years later. Frank was on some rage filled rant, completely plastered and Fiona didn't want us to get hurt."

"I noticed Mandy first, since she was in my class and she sat next to me and sometimes she kicked the guys who made fun of my freckles but she never said anything to me after she did. You were walking next to her, towards the store and she was talking a lot, which was something she didn't do at school. Even when we were older, she didn't talk to people unless it was threatening or seductive. So it struck me weird how much she seemed to be talking to you and you were nodding at her and I thought it was cool. That maybe, Mandy had a sibling like I did. Who cared about me and listened to me talk even though they were older and had other things to do. Then Lip told me I shouldn't go near you because you didn't have a heart and would beat me in a second flat." Ian was staring at him with glowing eyes, a small smile playing at his lips while he looked at Mickey who stared straight back.

Mickey was surprisingly the first to speak again, "Was he right?"

It was quiet for a moment, both of them staring at each other with all the intensity that their bodies could muster up until Ian broke, "No. He wasn't right. You have a heart and you loved Mandy and you were a sibling to her the way Lip was to me, in most ways. Protective, understanding, felt the need to make sure that we got to stay innocent as long as we could. He wasn't right because you always protected Mandy and then you fell in love with me and you didn't kill me for falling in love with you first."

He felt himself nod at Ian's words, watching his lips move as he spoke slowly, making sure Mickey understood everything he felt. "How do you know that you fell in love with me first?"

"I guess because I wasn't afraid to love you and you were. I was afraid of people knowing, afraid of getting myself killed for it, by you and most of the neighborhood. I was afraid of you knowing it, but I wasn't afraid to love you. I couldn't have stopped myself if I tried, you tried not to anyways," Ian said with such confidence it made Mickey wonder if he thought about this before. 

The two of them sat in silence again, this time it wasn't uncomfortable or full of sexual tension or confusion, it was just content silence. Mickey let his thoughts swim through his mind, thinking of every time he saw Ian when they were younger, thinking of all the times he protected Mandy, all the times he hit Ian's older brother, every time he told himself he couldn't love Ian, couldn't love anyone that wasn't family and named Mandy. He knew Ian was right, Ian fell in love with Mickey first and he let himself know it, accepted it even if a lot of the time he hated it.

"I love you," Mickey told him. Clarifying that it didn't matter if in the past he would have denied it with everything in him. He loved him now and that was it, no more bullshitting it. "I love you and I don't fucking care if it's stupid that I still get freaked out that you'll stop loving me after twenty years of putting up with each other's shit. Even though you fell in love with me first, I don't give a shit. I love you now."

Mickey was never one to say 'I love you' so much. Usually never even said it first, only answered Ian because he knew Ian liked to hear him say it, despite how obvious it was. But the moment between them, entwined together and breathing into each other, finding out so many new things that Mickey never knew he even wanted to know about Ian, felt like he needed Ian to know everything he had thought about him for years. 

Ian's lips touched Mickey's neck lightly once, his breath shuddering like he couldn't contain his emotions. "I know, and I love you too. I get scared too, you know. That one day I'll wake up and you'll be gone. Falling asleep next to you is my favorite thing and the scariest thing I do everyday, because I don't want you to ever leave. Because fuck, I wouldn't even blame you if you did. Sometimes I can't believe that you're still snoring next to me every morning."

"I'm not leaving, I wouldn't do that. I wouldn't fucking leave you, not now, not after everything, not ever. I'm done being scared about losing you, you're mine and I love you and we need to stop being so fucking paranoid after twenty years together that the other will leave. Fuck Firecrotch, I'm not leaving and you're not leaving, okay? Just promise me that," Mickey said, his voice full of frustration and honesty and adoration. 

He felt Ian nod against him, the tip of his hair tickling Mickey's neck, "I promise. I will always fucking promise that."

Mickey nodded tightened his grip around Ian's waist while he pressed impossibly closer to him, "Good." That was all that had to be said. And Mickey wondered if they would continue this game of questions some other day, how many more secrets he'd find out about Ian, how many stories he'd hear and he couldn't help but look forward to every single moment of that.


End file.
